


Hidden Embroideries

by Lafaiette



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Josephine shows them the Halamshiral uniforms for the first time, Love, and confusion and slightly disappointment ensue, but then everything gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: Finally, the outfit appears: there are a blue sash, the rich red satin of a jacket, a pair of brown pants, and bright hints of golden. Josephine spreads it out on the desk and Dorian makes a choked sound, while Scarlet’s happiness deflates quite a bit.It’s beautiful, but definitely not what she was expecting.“It’s… a uniform.”





	Hidden Embroideries

“You know,” Dorian says, curling his perfect mustache, “you act different when you are around strangers.”

Scarlet blinks and stops aligning neatly the stack of papers in her hands.

The meeting with a group of Tevinter merchants – one of a few that already occurred in Skyhold – has just finished and she and her best friend are alone in Josephine’s office, while the always dedicated ambassador is currently accompanying the guests to their rooms.

Scarlet blinks again and frowns, concerned by those words. She didn’t notice it and nobody ever pointed it out to her before, but she supposes it’s normal, since her Inquisitor duties require a certain professionalism and sometimes even a great deal of distance.

Her shyness doesn’t help at all, so all her surprise goes away once she realizes it’s true and she has been acting this way with strangers since the day she became Inquisitor.

Still, she feels bad about it and her eyes betray worry and anxiety as she asks with a sharp, quick intake of breath: “Am I rude? Do I look or sound fake?”

“Oh, no!” Dorian laughs, squeezing her arm to reassure her. “No, my friend. On the contrary, you look as earnest and honest as ever, but you are also much more… let’s see… serious? Not _bad_ serious, just… more introverted than usual.”

“Oh.” She looks down at the papers again, biting her lips, then her head snaps up again. “But am I reassuring? I mean…! Do I look scary or do I look reliable?”

“The latter, of course!” Dorian laughs again, then he sighs, folding his arms on his chest. “I fear I shouldn’t have said this to you. It was a compliment, not a way to criticize you.”

“I don’t want to be remembered as an ass.” she mumbles, playing with the corner of one page. “Do I smile too little? I don’t glare at people, do I? I swear it’s not on purpose, if I do!”

“Maker’s breath, Scarlet.” the Tevinter snorts, elbowing her. “You smile politely and kindly just as much as it is needed, you always listen to everyone’s complaints with the same patience of Andraste, and even if you forget some names once in a while…”

“Orlesian names are _so_ weird.” she sighs, remembering the last time she butchered the name of a marquis.

“… you are a _great_ Inquisitor and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Satisfied, Dorian pinches her cheek and that manages to make her smile, even if just a little bit.

But it’s clear she is still worried and he curses himself for his lack of tact.

“You aren’t an ass. You don’t look like one. You are always kind and patient. And no, you don’t glare. You _never_ glare. I just noticed that…” He makes a funny sound, not knowing how to continue without causing her to panic even more. She is staring at him with her big, golden eyes, waiting impatiently for his next words, and he sighs, scratching his head.

“… That you are very professional?”

Scarlet pouts at that and gives him an odd look, making him splutter.

“I swear it! You are always so serious and…”

“Oh, Creators, Dorian! Then I _do_ look grumpy!”

“I didn’t say that!”

Scarlet slumps down on her chair, sighing, and the Altus curses himself again before reaching for her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t look grumpy. How could such a sweet face look grumpy? Solas would agree with me.”

That steals a smile from her and he grins, getting smooth again.

“What I meant to say, failing terribly at doing so, was that someone used to your smiling, bright self can notice the difference when you are around guests and boring nobles. You become quieter, but also more serious, and you focus a lot. It’s a good thing, believe me, and I heard Josephine and Leliana compliment it.”

“Really?” She looks pleasantly surprised, now. After becoming Inquisitor, she was worried sick that she couldn’t do a good job, that she wasn’t prepared enough to deal with all the important, influential people and work that her new duty forced her to face.

But she has been getting more confident during these long, intense months, especially after witnessing the growth of the organization and hearing her friends and all the people she works with compliment and thank her. It has helped her feel sure of herself and Dorian is pleased to see that his silly way of expressing himself hasn’t ruined all the progress she made.

“I swear it. Leliana, in particular, said you look like a true leader, always ready to help and find good solutions.” He curls his mustache again, smiling appreciatively. “And I agree with her, my friend. That was what I meant.”

“Thank you.” Definitely calmer than before, she smiles at her best friend and nudges him with her arm, laughing: “You made me panic for a moment, you ass.”

“I apologize. How can I make it up to you? Can I offer you a drink? Some sweet tarts?” He grins, his perfectly white teeth shining like gems in the sunlit room. “The privacy of my nook at night for some sexy time with your beloved Solas?”

She blushes and swats his arm, grinning like a dork while he laughs and almost falls off the chair. Josephine finds them like that, laughing and trying to playfully hit each other, but she’s so excited that she barely notices it.

“Inquisitor! The outfits we ordered for the Empress’ Grand Ball have arrived!”

She gasps, springing up from her chair. She has been waiting for the special clothes to arrive for weeks now, after Josephine assured everyone that they would go to Empress Celene’s ball with a new, formal attire suitable for the members of the Inquisition. She refused to reveal how they would look like, so Scarlet had all the time to fantasize and imagine them.

She is no seamstress, but she _loves_ sewing and she loves clothes and dresses, so her curiosity has been incredibly high, just like her hopes. Dorian looks quite intrigued, too, and they hastily stand up to allow Josephine to place the brown packages onto her desk.

Scarlet holds her breath, bouncing slightly onto her tiptoes, while Josephine compliments the excellent texture of the outfits – she has already seen hers, she says – and the great work done by the Orlesian seamstresses she hired.

Scarlet didn’t know that last particular, that the seamstresses were Orlesian, and that worries her a bit, because no Orlesian tailor has ever been able to sew some good dress or good clothes for her, probably baffled by her elven body and tastes or completely ignorant about them.

But she trusts Josephine’s judgement and she knows she did a good job in ensuring everyone’s outfit would look good and respect their tastes. So she shares Dorian’s grin and the Ambassador’s excitement and finally the brown paper moves, letting them see the precious cloth underneath…

It’s red and golden, the colors of the Inquisition, and she wonders if that’s her outfit or perhaps Dorian’s. Josephine did mention something about wanting to have a common theme to show the bond of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle, so she supposes this is what she meant: a similar palette of colors to remind the nobles of their status and the organization they belong to.

Finally, the outfit appears: there are a blue sash, the rich red satin of a jacket, a pair of brown pants, and bright hints of golden. Josephine spreads it out on the desk and Dorian makes a choked sound, while Scarlet’s happiness deflates quite a bit.

It’s beautiful, but definitely not what she was expecting.

“It’s… a uniform.”

“Oh, yes! A formal uniform, cut at the right length, with warm pants and comfortable boots. I also ordered gloves, they are of the softest Antivan leather!”

“Well, I’m not wearing _this._ ” Dorian scoffs, eyeing the uniform with disgust and distrust, as if it’s a demon in disguise ready to attack. He turns to Scarlet, noticing her quiet, sad disappointment. “And you shouldn’t either, my friend. This red color doesn’t match your hair at all and I want you to look splendid.”

Josephine glares at him, a bit offended by his harsh criticism, and the Altus hurries to reassure her that the outfit looks precious, expensive, well-made, and that he isn’t judging her tastes, merely those of the seamstresses she hired.

“Can… Can we see the other ones?” Scarlet asks timidly, interrupting the two bickering humans. Maybe this one was made for Cullen or Leliana – it looks quite large –, while hers will be more suitable for her looks.

“Yes, let’s see the other outfits! This one is clearly not for us, Josephine. Give it to the Commander or… I don’t know, Blackwall?”

But when Josephine arches an eyebrow and looks at them with a quizzical face, Scarlet understands.

“Wait.” she says, now realizing what the Ambassador really meant with ‘common theme’. “Don’t tell me that they all look the same?”

The sound Dorian makes is strangled and high-pitched at the same time.

“Well, of course they do! These are the official uniforms of the Inquisition, we will all wear the same model.” Josephine smiles, hope coming back into her eyes, and she clasps her hands. “That was my request to the seamstresses. I gave them some general guidelines and they did the rest. I believe they did an excellent job.”

Then she grows worried again and swallows, looking back and forth from the Inquisitor to the paling Tevinter man.

“Don’t… don’t you agree?”

“Andraste’s ass.” Dorian swears, opening the next package with one gesture. There is another uniform inside, identical to the first one, and Scarlet’s mood reaches a new low, while Dorian shudders and takes a deep breath.

“I am _not_ wearing this.” he repeats, but it’s evident how disappointed and mortified Josephine is and Scarlet hides her true feelings under a smile. The Ambassador already knows what she thinks about the uniform, but she doesn’t want to rub salt on the wound with more moping on her part.

If what Dorian said is right, then she can use her professional, more serious Inquisitor attitude to decrease the poor woman’s discomfort – she knows she really wants this to work, that she is nervous about the Ball as everyone else, and even if the outfits aren’t really what Scarlet was hoping they would be, she doesn’t want to offend or hurt her.

“Don’t worry about it, Josephine. Your idea was great and I’m sure they will look good on us.”

Dorian splutters, attempting to reply with a witty remark, but Scarlet elbows him while Josephine is too busy lifting one uniform up to notice.

“Oh, I knew you would understand, Inquisitor! And I agree, they are cut so well and the cloth is so nice, I believe we will look striking with them on!” She glares at Dorian. “No matter our hair color.”

While her two friends discuss the qualities and faults of the uniforms, Scarlet excuses herself, saying she wants to try it in the privacy of her room. The boots have been sent there, Josephine informs her before going back to her amicable argument with Dorian, and Scarlet makes a low sound of distress, hoping those will be comfortable enough for her, so used to walking with nothing between her soles and the ground.

The boots she wears in Skyhold and those of her previous armors are soft, not too tight, because Dagna and Harritt helped her craft them and improve them, but these new ones for the formal uniform have been made by Orlesians and even if they used genuine Antivan leather, the result can still be painful.

Once she is in her quarters – hers and Solas’, actually, because they belong to him as much as they belong to her and she is so happy for that -, she feels slightly better, but her disappointment comes rushing back as soon as she spreads the uniform onto the bed.

It’s definitely not the dress she was imagining and she can’t even modify or add some embroideries, not if they want to maintain the ‘common theme’ and show their identity to all the nobles of the Ball. It’s true she is the Inquisitor and some might think she deserves to wear a different outfit, something that would put her apart from the others, but that’s not what she wants and that idea was actually pretty good and she reminds herself to thank Josephine again for it.

Still, despite its good quality, she still can’t bring herself to love the uniform and she wonders with horror what Solas will think about it. Then her disappointment becomes sharper, because she was hoping to wear a beautiful, elegant dress to surprise him with.

_‘Romantic fantasies’_ , as Cassandra and Varric would call them, each in their own different way, the first with a wistful sigh, the second with an amused, dry smile. Those were indeed romantic fantasies, but she supposes that’s all they will be now.

With a sigh, she starts undressing herself; standing with just her smalls and breastband in front of the mirror, placing the uniform flat against her body. As she feared, the sight isn’t that good – that bright red really doesn’t suit her hair -, but the fabric is soft and smooth and it looks comfortable, at least.

Speaking of comfortable, she finds the boots – Solas’ are there too - and she is glad to see they are indeed made of excellent leather, the kind that would make any Dalish elf gasp with excitement and possessiveness.

“Can’t hurt to see how it looks, I guess.” she murmurs to herself, starting to put on the complete outfit.

She is wrong, because it hurts _a little_ to see her reflection in the mirror: the outfit is really a bit too big for her, like she noticed, and it hides the forms of her body that she wanted to accentuate for Solas. It looks… kind of _baggy_ on her and she isn’t sure the boots are supposed to be that high, while the skirt feels a little too short for her tastes, but at the same time it’s also not _that_ bad and her next sigh is less heavy than the previous one.

Right then, she hears the door open and Solas call: “ _Vhenan_?”

She blushes, glancing worriedly at the mirror, but then she relaxes and replies back: “I’m here!”

She waits for him to walk up the stairs while biting her lips and wringing her hands, not sure what his reaction, his comment, will be: will he confirm her doubts about the uniform and the way it looks on her or will he like it, even if it isn’t the flowing, glowing dress she pictured in her mind?

The answer is immediate: as soon as he sees her, Solas’ face lightens up and he beams at her. She sees another brown package in his arms, sign that Josephine intercepted him and gave him his own uniform.

“ _Ma vhenan_ , you look beautiful.”

That’s enough to make the clothes look like a splendid masterpiece to her eyes.

“You think so?” she mumbles, blushing harder and smiling at him, before looking at the reflection in the mirror, the smile still on her lips.

“Yes. Yes, I wasn’t so sure when Josephine showed it to me, just now, but…” He approaches her and she sees his cheeks are red, too. “But you look wonderful, _vhenan_.”

“Thank you.” she says softly, her smile growing. She purses her lips, touching the blue sash and the pliable belt, and adds: “It’s not a dress, but I’m starting to like it.”

“I admit I was not expecting this either, but I like the idea of us wearing all the same outfit.” He moves to stand behind her and he wraps his arms around her waist, after tossing his own uniform onto the bed.

He kisses her neck, then her cheek, finally her lips, making her giggle, and says with a warm smile: “We could prepare our own ball here in Skyhold, after ending the Orlesian civil war. I’m sure that would be the perfect occasion to wear much more formal and extravagant clothes.”

She beams at him from the mirror, already liking the idea. It’s true, the Empress’ Ball requires subtlety, professionalism, decorum, and Dorian said she is particularly good at having those in the most serious and important situations. So these uniforms might really have been the best choice.

But a ball held at Skyhold? That’s completely different, this is where the Inquisition commands, where it makes the rules, so they can afford to wear whatever they like, whatever they most prefer to welcome their guests with.

“I’d love that!” she exclaims, turning to face Solas and wrapping his arms around his neck. “That’s a marvelous idea!”

“Good. Let’s inform Josephine of it later.” he chuckles, kissing the tip of her nose. “Also, I convinced her to let us add… personal details to our uniforms. They cannot be altered or modified, but we can add more elements to our look.”

Scarlet tilts her head, confused, and Solas’ smile, plus the playful glint in his eyes, tell her everything.

She gasps and bounces on her feet, saying quickly: “Like hats? Or hidden embroideries?”

“Yes, exactly so. I already got her permission to wear a special hat, a joke towards the Orlesian court.” He kisses her. “I’m sure you can add all the hidden embroideries you want, _vhenan_. They will be your secret.”

“Oh, _vhenan_ , that’s amazing!” Her love for this uniform grows tenfold and she laughs as her lips touch his, her hands squishing his cheeks, his arms holding her tightly.

“May I add some onto your uniform, too?” she asks when they break the kiss, not even taking time to regain breath. She has already many ideas in mind, cute hearts and elegant swirls, the same she sewed onto the sweaters and shirts she made for him.

“Of course, _ma sa’lath_. I would be honored.” He presses his lips all over her face and her mood rises to the stars, the red uniform now feeling like the best tailored outfit ever made.

Later, after eating lunch with Solas in their room, she goes with another important meeting and this time she makes sure not to let her shyness win and hide behind her Inquisitor persona: she smiles and laughs a lot, making the guests and merchants smile and laugh in return, and she thanks Josephine for her hard work and good idea, and the Ambassador’s overjoyed smile and clasped hands tell her that she will have a great day, too.

Then, after dinner in the main hall, she goes to bed with Solas and there she starts working on the embroideries for their uniforms, after collecting their friends’ requests for their own outfits, too: it will be their secret, like Solas said, another way to make them feel part of the same world, of the same reality, and the heart she is sewing inside the sleeve of his outfit is bright and soft, a gift that only his loving fingers can touch.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on August before leaving for my summer holidays and I remembered about it just now :'D


End file.
